Over the River
by lms2457
Summary: An alternate journey through the woods of the episodes leading up to Always.
1. Prologue: Faultlines

**Over the River**

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I still don't own Castle.

**A/N: **This is an alternate universe/speculation fic for episodes 19 through 23 of season four. I already have a piece written for episode 19, but due to my tight schedule and a very busy beta reader I wasn't able to post the rest of that chapter today. That chapter will hopefully be posted tomorrow, but I expect it will deviate quite a bit from the episode that aires this evening. That said, we begin with a short prologue.

Also, reviews are like chocolates. You can never have too many. Feed me?

_For CuffedBunnies, as always._

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><p>Castle has always enjoyed watching her work, and he'd be the first to admit that. Of course, normally his preferred position was to be in there with her. But, even he has to admit that there something spectacular about occasionally getting the opportunity to simply stand back and watch Kate Beckett work.<p>

And the truth was, in there alone and uninterrupted she was tearing the kid apart. He watched as she managed to get the kid pretty frazzled, though it didn't lead to anything like a confession. But today, she was at her most relentless, and he highly approved. Under the circumstances, they needed this kid to crack so that they could stop whatever he has planned next.

But then, suddenly his partner said something he never planned on hearing. Without any real thought or his consent he finds himself whispering "you remembered?"

Castle was stunned, numb, and half deaf from the blood rushing in his ears. If he was willing to be completely honest with himself, he have to admit that he had always somewhat suspected that Kate remembered more than she said. But hearing her admit it, after spending so long trying to convince himself that she simply wasn't capable of that kind of deception was more than he could process.

Barely even aware what he was doing, he found himself edging backwards towards the door of the observation room. His hand was on the doorknob, and he was already working his way out of the room before she had even moved fully from her previous position. From there, he didn't remember much of what happened until he reached the elevator.

He had managed to get into the elevator, half leaning, half collapsing against the back of the elevator car before he realized that she was there. Somehow, during his retreat she had managed to make her way to her desk. She was slipping into her coat when she turned around and saw him as the doors began to close. He could only imagine the expression on his face from seeing the look on hers. It was unlike any he had seen on her before.

Later he would wonder if she knew what he had heard. But for now, all he could do was lean toward the opening of the doors as it diminished. He had no choice. He had to see her. Because some broken part of him was convinced this might be the last time.


	2. Chapter 1: Shaking Ground

**Over the River**

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I still don't own Castle.

**A/N: **This is an alternate universe/speculation fic for episodes 19 through 23 of season four. Sorry for the delay in posting posting. As you will see, some things match the episode, others do not. I had already chosen who the bomber was before the episode aired. In the way, this story is all about getting the same place by way of a different route through the woods. So it's fitting.

Chapter 2 will be posted before "The Limey" airs on the east coast.

Also, reviews are like chocolates. You can never have too many. Feed me?

_For CuffedBunnies, my always awesome beta. And for the always amazing team at The Old Haunt. :love:_

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><p>"I've been such a fool. I thought I knew her. I really thought she was different, mother. I thought this was going somewhere. And then, to find that she lied to me like this. If I hadn't heard it with my own ears, if someone else had told me Beckett - that Kate - was capable of this, I'd have told you they were the ones lying. Or at least to crazy to be believed. And now? I don't know what to do, Mother.<p>

Martha gave her son an appraising look. "And you're sure, darling, absolutely certain she wasn't making it up?"

Castle scoffed, "Not everyone is an actress in disguise, mother." Only once he had said it, it occurred to him that Nikki at least was, if Kate was not. He recalled making that choice simply because he could find no better explanation for Kate's stunning ability in the interrogation room. And for just the briefest of moments, he considered it. But then he shook his head again. "No, no mother. It was – it was different than that. You didn't see her. I've seen her play suspects before. That very day, in fact. No, it was how she said it. And why she said it.

"The kid was making excuses about the trauma of the experience, and it was like he ramped her up and triggered something. Hit too close and she just threw it out in anger. It was just too raw to be fake. I can't rationalize this away, mother. It happened, and she lied and I was wrong about her."

Martha sighed, "All right, so she lied to you. But, don't be so sure you know why. It isn't entirely unlike Detective Beckett to play her emotions closely, you know."

Again, Castle found himself shaking his head. "I know what you mean; I know what you're trying to say. But mother, it still doesn't make any sense. Why lie about it? I've been as patient and as understanding as I know how to be. I get that she hasn't been ready, I've been more than willing to wait for her. She must see that, if she knows how I feel, she must understand what I've been trying to do? To give her the space she was asking for, that she said she needed."

His mother shrugged, "Sometimes we are blindest to the things that are right in front of our faces."

Something like cold dread settled inside of him. "And I'm beginning to think, I might be the blindest one of all," he said quietly.

However his mother might've responded, neither one of them got the chance to find out. At that moment, Castle's cell rang. When he pulled it from his pocket to see her face looking back at him from the screen, he flinched.

"You don't have to answer, you know," his mother offered.

He knew she was right. Regardless of how they operated, he was really under no obligation to come when Beckett called. And yet, hurt and angry as he was, he couldn't bring himself to fully turn her away. Not yet.

When he answered the phone, he was ashamed at the tightness that leached through his voice when he spoke his name. He didn't want her to know, if she hadn't figured it out already, how much this was affecting him. If she even knew there was anything to affect him. He couldn't be sure she even knew that he had heard her.

The first thing that he could tell was how her voice was strained. Surely, she wasn't going to have this conversation over the phone. Was she? No it wasn't that. She wanted him to meet her for an in-hospital interview. One of the victims was awake, was talking about the kid from interrogation. About the backpack they hadn't released information about.

"It's - the girl is in ICU, Castle. She's bad, was close to the blast. I've seen worse, we both have. But, this day, you know? I don't know if I should go in there alone."

It hit him then, knocked the air from his lungs. This girl wasn't shot, but he remembered the sniper victim. The one Lee Travis didn't kill. The one who begged to know why. He remembered how it set her off, how much he had wanted to do something for her despite how helpless he felt himself.

She hadn't asked for his help then, she wanted space. But she was asking now. She might not be the extraordinary woman he had once claimed before the world. Though there was a part that hoped he might still have been right about that much, despite her lie. She might not ever love him; he couldn't bring himself to dare to hope for that to be untrue. But she had been there for three years, had been friend and partner and so much more. And she was asking - pleading - for backup.

He wanted to say no. But traitorous words slipped out without his conscious approval. "I'm on my way," he said softly.

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><p>When they arrived at the hospital, Castle was stunned to learn the situation was even worse than he had anticipated. The girl was such horrible shape it was hard to even look at her. He had thought seeing the dead at the crime scene was one of the worst things he had ever seen. But this girl, the pain she must be in, that was worse than even his own overactive imagination seemed fully capable of conjuring.<p>

It was one thing, he supposed, to look at people who had died in even the most gruesome of ways. It was, however quite another to see someone like this and realize that they would have to live with it. Live through the pain.

Despite his own very different pain, he found himself reaching out a hand to Beckett. She couldn't be Kate to him, not now, not yet. Maybe in time, when he's managed to resign himself to a relationship with her that is not so different than his relationship with the boys. But today, it's just Beckett.

"Do you really think this is a good idea? You really think she can handle it?" Really, he'd been asking if she thought she could handle it; not the victim but Beckett herself. That after all, despite everything, is the reason he is here.

She shook her head. "I don't know, but I do know that she approached us. We were asked to come down here because she had something to say. So if she's willing to talk, I have to be willing to listen."

He nodded, accepting this. Together, they walked through the door and to their witness. It felt so normal that hurt. But he held it in as if by sheer force of gravity.

Girl on the bed turned to look at them as soon as she heard their footsteps in the doorway. "Are – are you – police?" She worked out the words with considerable effort.

Once Beckett hey confirmed the girls question, she seems to visibly relax. "I heard the nurses. Talking. About the bombing. Friends came, didn't want to say anything – when I asked. But…someone said, you had Bobby. Had to, had to talk to you –"

The kid from interrogation, that's what she wanted to talk about? This girl in this condition wanted to talk about her friend? To try to protect him, maybe? Castle could barely believe his ears. But, he covers well. He's going to need the practice for a while.

"Miss –" Beckett began.

"Kelsey," the girl said.

"Kelsey," Beckett said quietly, kindly, "I really can't –"

"It's not Bobby. He didn't – he just went to get my backpack."

Something that felt like live electricity shot through Castle. He walked around the side of the girl's bed, he wanted her to keep talking. Didn't want his tall height to intimidate her, make her stop.

"It was your backpack?" He asked quietly, because Beckett hadn't yet. She was watching him. He wished that she would stop.

"No – wrong backpack. Was looking for my backpack. Found the wrong one. Put it down."

"So he moved the backpack over into the crowd?" Castle asked.

The girl nods, but there's a distinctly negative look about her eyes. He finds himself looking at her eyes, because they at least are undamaged.

"How can you be sure that it was an accident?" Beckett asked. Their time with the girl was rapidly dwindling away, and so far they didn't know how much of what the girl was telling her could even be considered credible in the best of circumstances, Castle knew.

"Sometimes even the people you think you know can surprise you," he said without meaning to.

The girl's blue eyes fixed on Castle, with something that he could only describe as rage. Then her eyes closed briefly, and reopened, the look determined. And then she spoke more clearly than she had the entire interview. "I know Bobby. If he knew there was a bomb in that bag, he'd have thrown himself on it.

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><p>"We've talked to Kelsey, Bobby, we know it was her backpack you were after."<p>

The boy jerked up like he had been burned. "That was not Kelsey's backpack. She didn't have anything to do with it. She wouldn't… I mean, my god, have you even seen her? Did you see what that did to her? What… it's all my fault."

"Why?" Castle asked. He had a suspicion, that the boy's words were not as thought through as his previous ones had been. Something told him that Bobby had not deliberately set the bomb. And it was something to do with his reaction to Kelsey.

"They were Kelsey' friends. I mean this was her thing, you know? I just went with her because she asked me to, and I wanted to go there if she wanted me to go with her. But I didn't know any of these people, and I wasn't really into the cause or anything. I mean mainly, because I don't mind protesting something if the cause is good. But you got to have a plan, and sometimes it just feels like these guys don't have a plan. Don't know what they want. So it's not my thing even if I do agree with them sometimes, you know?"

"Did you have a plan Bobby?" Kate asked. Her voice was as quiet and deliberate as it had been in the earlier interrogation, now.

The boys eyes got wide, but Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Yeah I had a plan. Hang out with Kelsey for the day, and hope she let me buy her lunch later. After, you know?"

From Castle's perspective, he could see the young man wringing his hands in his lap. "Why did you say it was your fault, Bobby?" He ignored the sidelong glance from Kate. "Tell me," he said quietly.

"They were Kelsey's friends, like I said. So she was talking to them, and she asked me to go get her backpack for her. She left it over with someone else when we arrived by mistake. I went over to get it. But, the one I got wasn't Kelsey's. She, She –" he trailed off for a minute and took a shaky breath.

"She has this thing she does, like people do with their luggage. Ties a scarf or hair tie or something to the strap of the bag, so she knows it's hers. I didn't see it, but then I wasn't really looking at first, you know? Kind of thought it was silly. But then, I realized there was nothing on there. And at first, I thought it'd gotten thrown off in the crowd. You know, all those people? But then I looked up, and I saw another bag like the one I had. Only it had Kelsey's little thing on it. so, I just I dropped the other bag and I went to go get hers. I was going to take it over to her, and then I was going to come back to the other bag and put it back where I found it. But –"

"Then the bomb went off." It was Kate who finished the sentence.

Bobby looked up again, he was crying. "I – Kelsey, she was… She was just… I mean she couldn't even scream or. And then she looked over at me and she was just staring... and there was so much blood."

Castle's mind was flooded with images of his own, and they had very little to do with the bombing. He tried to think of something if he could say, something, anything. But his partner beat him to it.

"That doesn't make it your fault, Bobby." She said softly. "You didn't know the bomb was in the bag, did you?"

"God, no, I didn't know! But that doesn't change anything. Don't you see? It wasn't there before. It was away – away from her and away from everybody. I brought it there, I put it close to her. She was fine, and I was trying to help, and I put a damn bomb right next to her!"

Castle felt his blood burn through him at the young man's words. I put her in the cross-hairs. Was that it? Was that the reason she hadn't told him? The reason she couldn't – because he had been the one who got her involved in her mother's murder again? Wasn't that what Josh had said? That it was his fault because he got her involved in her mother's murder? He hadn't even known that the other man knew about Kate's mother, and certainly not her investigation. At least, that had been what Kate told him when he had asked her if Josh knew about her murder board.

He realized he'd been looking away for too long, lost in his own thoughts. When he looked up again, he was surprised to find that she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye. But the moment she saw him notice her, she looked away; back to their now apparently innocent suspect.

"Why did you lie to me Bobby?" She asked. "Why did you say you couldn't remember?"

Castle wondered if it was his imagination that she seemed to have trouble getting those words out. But he managed to restrain himself from giving away his feelings this time.

The boy hesitated again, again clearly showing agitation. "Look, I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean to lie exactly. I didn't mean to insult you. It wasn't my backpack. But I knew if I said I was looking for Kelsey's backpack, you'd think that she did it. And she didn't, she couldn't ever. It was the wrong backpack, I swear I would never ever do anything like that. But I wasn't so much worried about me.

The truth is, I didn't want to remember seeing her like that. Seeing Kelsey like that? Knowing it was my fault she was that way. How the hell am I supposed to live with that? Her and all those other people. My god five people died all because I moved the damn backpack. How do I live with that? You tell me."

"You can't change what happened, but maybe you can still help us. Maybe you help us out a little bit here, and we forget all about how you tried to lie. You think you can do that?" Kate asked.

Bobby nodded vigorously. "Of course. Yeah, yeah. What can I do?"

"We need to find out who had the other backpack. Unfortunately, it's hard to get information about who might have had the backpack when nobody really knows exactly what it looked like. But you know Kelsey's backpack. We've got officers out there looking for it now, and you know what it looked like. Could you help us out with a description maybe? Show us where you found the other bag?"

He knew what Kate was thinking. The kids had corroborated each other's stories. The odds that they would have colluded to plant the bomb and land Kelsey in the hospital were slim. Bobby was still their best suspect, but she'd run down the second bag lead before making a call. There was a time that he loved knowing her so well. And now, in a matter of a day, he dreaded it, too.

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><p>Bobby turned out to be more of a help to the case as a witness than he was as a half-convincing suspect. His description and location of the backpack caught fire with the TV station Cameraman. The reporter he was working with had shown up that day with her supplies in an unfamiliar bag. The backpack caught his attention because it wasn't her normal style bag.<p>

Even Castle had to admit to Beckett is in top form interrogation of the young woman. The confession had been quick and clean. If only he could find that kind of clear answer in his own life right now, he thought bitterly as he leaned against the door frame of Gates' office.

He couldn't remember ever being so grateful for the Captain's frequent insistence that he avoid coming into her office as much as possible. Hearing Beckett try to work in a good word for him is hard enough. Having to watch her might be enough to kill him.

"She was tired of the second tier assignments. Decided to go ahead and create her own story. But she never planned for Bobby to move the backpack. She was expecting smoke and mirrors, not bodies, so she panicked."

Gates gave her the typical job well done, and even managed to spare Castle a quick nod of thanks for his assistance. The victory was a hollow one, and Beckett's answering smile tasted bitter in his mouth. He made a quick exit. His daughter needed him, he said, too quickly.

It doesn't feel like enough anymore. Not right now. Not if she doesn't love him, if she can't ever love him. And he when he thought back to Bobby's face, his story, he can't even bring himself to blame her.


	3. Chapter 2: Shattering Glass

**Over the River**

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I still don't own Castle.

**A/N: Y**es, this is very late. While the fic at large is still considered a speculation/AU, but because of real life event this piece was so late that it ended up being more of an alternate version of the episode that was inspired more heavily by the episode itself then the rest of them. Chapter 3 is written, and is a true speculation piece. Though, because I actually want to watch the episode, it will be posted later tonight, or tomorrow morning. Again, this fic should still be considered AU.

Also, reviews are like chocolates. You can never have too many. Feed me?

_For CuffedBunnies, you patientce and insight amaze me. Always. _

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><p>Lanie was wrong. It's the first thought she had when she saw the blonde in his car, but she'd been thinking it for a while, even before that sight crashed full speed into her brain.<p>

Not about her feelings for her partner, or even about his, she suspected, despite all present evidence to the contrary. But her friend's harsh words about what she and Castle had? That felt wrong on more levels than she was certain she was capable of articulating at the moment.

No, they didn't have the same form of friendship the two women had, that would be ridiculous. But they had something, she knew. Something that was related to, and yet more than the basis of casual friendship. But, did Lanie know that? Could she? Sure, she had seen them tease and flirt and annoy one another. She's heard her fair share of grumbling complaints from Kate. But there are so many things, the detective realized, that the others never see.

Like Alexis, she thought, as she watched her partner hand over the keys to his very expensive sports car to the unknown blonde. What was the man thinking, she wondered. Handing that kind of money to some strange - but, yes, Alexis. They talked about his daughter. The day that he was willing to take her advice about Alexis was the day that she knew they had become friends. More, really.

When he came to her about his daughter, it did something to her. The intimacy of it, the way he was so willing to admit to the kinds of flaws and insecurities that the rest of the world never saw. It was the sort of thing parents did, she had realized, as she thought back to walking in to find her own parents huddled around the kitchen table in serious conversation that ended when a teenaged Kate had entered the room.

And, even though her age - though not his, clearly - made her closer to an older sister than a mother to the girl, she liked that about the two of them. She had always felt he came to her for the things he couldn't go to Martha with, or the times when he disliked his own mother's answers. The things he should, by right, share with his ex-wife. Though it was clear he did not trust the woman's judgement. Kate hadn't seen much of Castle's first wife, but she was inclined to agree. And it meant the world to her that he trusted her judgment.

So, when she watched him approach, she could hardly help wondering exactly where it was that he had left his own judgment. He looked like he had been through the ringer.

She wanted to let it go, but his breezy "never better" wasn't helping her confidence here.

When they walked from the scene together, she saw he was keeping a wider distance than he usually did. He'd been doing that lately, and she'd been lying if she said it didn't leave her feeling a little lost.

"Hey, Castle?" She stopped walking, turning to face him at her side.

His "Hmm?" of acknowledgment was distracted, and he kept walking, passing her by.

Her jaw dropped slightly in surprise. Quickly, before he made his way out of her reach, Kate reached out to take him firmly by the shoulder. "Rick!" she exclaimed, forcing him to turn back.

The surprise was clearly on his face now, too. "What?" he asked, irritation arriving quickly on the heels of his surprise. The look was so unexpected, it stole her breath.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly far too dry. "I just - are you sure you're okay? You look -" she didn't dare say miserable aloud, not with him looking at her like that, but it was the only thing that seemed to fit.

"Of course, Beckett. Just a little too much fun out in Vegas, you know how it goes."

She didn't, not for him, but she could guess if his appearance after the impromptu bachelor party for Ryan in Atlantic City were any indication. This, though, didn't feel like that. It felt wrong, broken. "Okay," she returned quietly. "But you'd tell me if anything was wrong, wouldn't you?" she asked uncertainly. "You can always tell me, you know."

"Of course," he returned. Too easily, too brightly.

But what really frightened her was the contrary look in his eye. The one she caught for only a brief moment before he snuffed it out beneath a mask of indifference. The look that chilled her to the core. Because it looked like he had lost his best friend.

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><p>Working with Hunt wasn't doing much to improve her mood, that much was for sure. She was still worried about her partner. He'd been all too willing to hand her over to the visiting detective in favor of lunch with the little piece of blonde whatever he was apparently meeting for lunch.<p>

She could almost believe Lanie was right, that he was tired of waiting for a response from her. Almost. But something about his newly reapplied devil-may-care mask still rubbed her investigator's instincts the wrong way. For someone so invested in the idea of having a good time as her partner seemed to be, Rick Castle was anything but a happy man.

Only the few familiar glimmers of the Castle that she knows, that she's willing to admit to herself she loves, give her any kind of hope. When they found Hunt less than presentable, she was amused by his almost instinctive protection of her. Her normal instinct to roll her eyes at his antics was suppressed by an overwhelming sense of relief. Here he was, finally.

That familiar glimmer seemed to hold through until the point where she got Hunt cleared to join the team. There had been that moment of their familiar connection after Hunt asked what they would do in his shoes. Her thoughts of her mother had been immediate, and she had seen understanding cross Castle's face when they looked at each other. Understanding, and some deeper thing she had difficulty placing. But, then she had gone to Gates, and when she came out, the familiar Castle seemed to evaporate before her eyes.

She thought he might have returned for the briefest of moments when she appeared, dressed for this damned ball. His reaction certainly wasn't the cool blank stare she had been getting of late. It was enough to make her glad she had decided to have Hunt pick her up at work. Even if her intent had been to avoid giving the Brit access to her home, and to dispel any ideas that there was more going on here than casework, she wasn't about to deny that Castle's obvious approval of her attire was a fringe benefit.

Her train of thought abruptly crashed when Hunt seemed to decide their dance of convenience was his opportunity to flirt. She deflected him carefully at first, but when he asked her why she's a cop, she shut it down fast. That isn't something she shared with anyone unless she had to, the ghost of her mother's murder. Except, she had told Castle almost easily, back in the early days of their partnership. And whatever issues have arisen since, she couldn't bring herself to see that as a mistake.

Hunt was apparently not the type of man who takes subtext as an answer. She was beyond relieved to spot heir suspect and let her mind me consumed by the task ahead.

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><p>There were any number of reasons she was livid with Castle right now, and his involving that woman in her case was probably fairly low on the list, considering. But, it was the only topic she was prepared to broach in the precinct break room today.<p>

"What the hell are you thinking, Castle? You can't just randomly involve you lunch dates in a case!"

He turned in her general direction, but she noted that he wasn't really looking at her. "Come on, Beckett. That's how I work these things out. You know that, sounding boards and stories. Besides, it was helpful. I hardly think your issues with who I spend my time are relevant here."

Oh, good god, was he really? "I do not -" she stops abruptly. She won't voice that lie. "it's not my business who you spend time with, Castle. But this case is my business, and you'll do best to remember that."

She walked out, left him standing silently by the coffee machine. Damn that man.

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><p>His blatant refusal to talk to her had been nearly enough to snap her strained control. As he walked carelessly away from her, she took three quick steps, spinning him back as she had earlier.<p>

"Castle," her voice was deadly calm as she spoke. He made a visible effort not to react. She pushed it down. "Look, I get it okay. I don't know what's going on with you, but if this is how you want to live your life, fine. I'd like to think we've become close enough friends over these last few years that you could come talk to me, but I can't make you."

Something flashed in his eyes, and she felt the impending interruption, moved quickly to squelch it. "But, Castle? Whatever your issue is, you leave the stewardesses and sports cars elsewhere. You pull that kind of crap at my crime scene again, you do it from the other side of the tape. The disrespect doesn't fly with me, and you know it."

She spun on her heel, heading back to her desk. His quiet reply of "Noted, Detective," was nearly swallowed by the distance between them. He was gone when she turned around. She drew a shaky break and picked up her phone.

It was less than an hour later that she started to regret the call. Hunt tried his hand at casual flirtation again, causing her stomach to lurch. She found herself calling on her interrogation skills as she got him talking, first about their young victim, and then her father. Only then did he gain her full measure of attention and participation in the discussion, as he talks about how it felt to lose a partner.


	4. Chapter 3: Rocking Foundation

**Over the River**

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I still don't own Castle.

**A/N: **so, here is chapter 3 and we are back firmly in the land of AU. Based solely on the sneaks, we're veering out of canon territory here.

Also, reviews are like chocolates. You can never have too many. Feed me? Please, tell me what you liked.

_For CuffedBunnies, who wore the hero hat on this one._

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><p>If he felt like being honest with himself, Castle knew Beckett was right before he'd left precinct after the last case. He might not have been able to admit it until several days had passed, and even then, only to himself. Still, he knew it.<p>

He had no business at a crime scene behaving like an ass. These people, victims and family both, deserved at least that much respect. Time had taught him that lesson already. Time and Kate. His anger, his hurt, had shoved that aside.

He thought it best to stay away for a while, at least. Not that the team at the 12th had caught a case of late. No, according to his daughter, the story was that they were knee deep in trial prep for the bombing case. This was evidently not sitting well with Lanie, who was stuck on a case with another team, involving gangs and severed heads.

He couldn't even get his excitement to rise at the prospect, though his daughter has managed, despite his concerns. Still, he was going stir crazy here. The last of his novellas for Storm are with his editor, and he couldn't even look at Nikki right now.

Going into the 12th felt like an even worse idea. He doesn't think he could bare to relive that case. Can't stand the idea of watching as she pours through the paperwork, the statements. Blithely glossing over the simple sentence she still can't seem to recognize for the destruction that it was. Simple words that crushed his hopes, broke his heart. That broke them.

Instead, he grilled his daughter for information on her case. He'd been thinking about a bit with gangs in the back of his mind anyway. When he formed the plan in his mind, he steeled himself to see Kate about it. On the way, he stopped for coffee, bought two. Part habit, part apology. He had been wrong after all.

* * *

><p>It seemed so simple a question when Burke asked it that way. But what while she wanted was easy enough to define - Castle, her partner, her best friend. So much more than either - what she wanted to do was a more complicated question.<p>

Or more accurately, what she could bring herself to do. She had tried to talk to him. Tried friendship, tried anger, nothing seemed to want to break through. It was as if he had suddenly begun to put up walls of his own, leaving her on the outside.

In some ways, she could see how it made a certain amount of sense. She'd hurt him somehow with her inaction, that much at least had been made clear during her session. How and why it had occurred, though, she still wasn't entirely clear on. This thing with Castle felt too abrupt, like he'd reached a sudden decision to give up hope. It made so little sense.

When she saw him there, coffee in hand, the relief hit like a wave, taking all of her with it for a moment, making her stumble over her words, badly. Then he was asking her about Slaughter, and the fact that she'd realized he's not back, not really, made her put the coffee down again without really thinking about it. He looked hurt, she realized as she slipped into the break room.

When she came out again, he was gone. Guilt gnawed at her. She should have stayed. At least tried to talk him out of involving himself with Slaughter. Reckless ass, she thought, then wondered if it was supposed to apply to Slaughter, Castle, or herself. Truth was it was a fairly good fit all the way around.

She was irrationally pleased he had left the coffee when he went. She hasn't gotten one for herself, not since Castle had stopped bringing them. They felt too much like him, now. She stared at the cup, trying to remember the last one he brought her. The memory failed to come.

Kate took a long slow sip, eyes closed. She let the familiarity fill all of her senses, wash everything else away. Work would be there in a moment. For now, she just wanted to fill herself up with the memory of him.

* * *

><p>Castle had no idea what to make of Slaughter, really. On one level, the guy's style was fun. But there is something about the man that just rang warning bells in the back of the writer's brain. He's a bit reckless, Castle is sure, but he gets things done.<p>

What grated on Castle is more the man's apparent opportunistic streak. He jumped on Castle's relationship with the mayor just a bit too quickly for his liking. He's far too willing to let Castle be involved, experience warned him. A little to ready to rely on the fact that Castle has signed that waiver.

He was the cop version of everything Castle is trying to project, the writer realized. And, even as that was a good thing, in the sense that it aided his own efforts, it made him a little sick too. He hated this side of himself, hated the part of him that needed it right now. He hated Slaughter a little too, he realized.

He tried hard to convince himself that he didn't suggest the 12th because he missed the team, missed Kate. By the time they arrived, he had almost managed to convince himself.

* * *

><p>Kate saw them burst in, stopped her conversation with Ryan almost mid-word. He was bleeding. Why the hell was her partner bleeding?<p>

Her rational mind kept insisting that it was only a small cut, he was fine. Fine enough to be a jerk and pick a fight in defense of Slaughter, apparently.

As soon as her warning that he wasn't a cop came out of her mouth, Kate knew it was the wrong thing to have said. It wasn't what she had meant to say either. She took a deep breath, tried to back track.

"I know you can look out for yourself, Castle. That wasn't my point."

That now familiar irritation flashed from his eyes. "Well, if you have a point here, Beckett, please get to it. I have somewhere to be," he snapped angrily.

She swallowed, pushed through her own welling anger. Shutting down would get her nowhere. She'd learned at least that much in therapy. And even if she hadn't, that was more or less what Castle was doing right now, and it hurt. She wouldn't return that favor if she could help it.

"I'm - that's not what I meant to say. I know you can handle yourself. I've seen it, hell, you saved my life a number of times. And that's my point. Sometimes it takes more than one person can handle out there, even fully trained. Having someone you trust backing you up can keep you alive. Slaughter isn't that guy.

"He works alone because no one wants to work with him Castle. He doesn't make friends, he doesn't play on the team. If he thinks it will help him achieve his goal, he won't think twice about leaving you behind to get it done. Whatever is going on with you right now, whatever's going on with us, I care about what happens you, okay? I'm still your partner."

For a moment, she thought he might disagree on this point. She watched the angry retort flash across his face. But then, it seemed as if she might have broken through. He swallowed, looked away, then nodded once. Then, he headed to interrogation without another word.

Kate sighed, and did the only thing she could: She returned to her paperwork. It was a few hours later, after Slaughter and Castle had already cleared out, when she found herself going over her report of Bobby Lopez's first interrogation. The distance of time kept her from reacting with the same swell of anger that had overcome her that day.

What stopped her, was her own words. She'd been so angry, she hadn't realized back then exactly what she had said and what had simply been the commentary within her own mind.

The transcript of the recorder she'd had on in the room set her straight. It wouldn't have meant anything to almost anyone else, but it made her blood run cold. Oh God. This was – this was bad. The things that hadn't been making sense for weeks now suddenly started to, and none of it was good.

That morning. He'd brought her coffee that morning, and then he'd left. Said he had somewhere to be. She hadn't seen him though, she'd been in the box, angrily spilling her guts to Bobby Lopez.

"Espo!"

The other detective looks up at her sudden call. "What's up Boss?" he asked.

"Working on something for the timeline. Morning after the bombing. I was in the box with Bobby Lopez. Castle came in remember? Didn't stay long."

Esposito nodded. "Yeah, sure I remember. Why?"

She shook her head, trying to dispel the sickening feeling that was slowly taking her over. "Did he know I was back there? I mean you told him, right? Did he go back?"

"Yeah, I think he did. Came out shortly before you did, then said he had somewhere else he needed to be. I don't think I've ever seen him take off that fast, except here lately. But it seemed out of the ordinary then, you know? Not so much anymore." The look of distaste on the other detective's face was something he clearly wasn't bothering to hide.

Shit. She closed her eyes for a long moment, hoping not to give away anymore than she already had. She didn't know how she was going to fix this, but she knew she had to. She had to go and get her partner back.

* * *

><p>He was not long into the beating before he realized for the second time that week that Kate was right. It had all going to hell so quickly, he hadn't even had a moment to see it coming. And when it came, Slaughter was nowhere to be found.<p>

As he hit the brick wall behind him with more force than he would have thought possible, his only thought was: He hoped Kate wouldn't find him like this. She was still technically his partner. Surely, someone would call her. He hoped she didn't catch the case when they were done with him.

Life had been cruel enough to Kate Beckett, and so had he. She'd hurt him too, but she'd been the better partner, tried to warn him. He hadn't listened. He deserve this, she didn't. He only hoped that after all he had said and done in these last few weeks, she would remember her promise to look after his daughter. He hoped his daughter would let her.

When the call to freeze finally came, he was sure he must have imagined it. He didn't even dare hope that it could be real. Because the voice he heard was Kate's.

* * *

><p>It crossed Beckett's mind that this was the first time in recent memory that she's faced a weapon without fighting off the urge to freeze up. She couldn't now. her partner needed her.<p>

"You're all about the brotherhood, aren't you," she asked the man - boy really - holding a gun on her. "All about keeping your place in the family?"

"What do you know about it, pretty thing?" the boy taunted.

"I know how far you're willing to go for what's yours. Now I gotta tell you, that's my partner you're working over. So, I'm gonna have to ask you: are you ready to see how far I'm willing to go for what's mine?"

She didn't wait even for an answer to click off the safety. It felt like that moment in LA without Castle there to pull her back. Like the moment she lost control with Trapper John. She couldn't even bring herself to care.

The kid must have seen it in her eyes. He lowered his weapon a moment later, and the boys were on him in seconds. She paid no attention, went straight to Castle.

This was bad. Really bad. She tried to reach out to him, but afraid of where she might be able to touch him without causing further pain, she pulled back.

"Hey, Castle. Can you hear me?"

He moved his head slowly, eyes cracking open. "Kate. S-sorry."

"What? Hey, come on now. Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. Castle, I know I screwed up, and I'm so sorry, but I need you to hang in here with me, Rick, okay? You can hate me all you want tomorrow, But I need for you to stay with me now. I -"

The eerie similarity wasn't lost on her, and for the first time, Kate understood. She understood the near desperate need to say the words, to have him know, both despite and because of the terrible timing involved. But, she wouldn't let herself do it. She couldn't bring herself to say the words when the slightest chance existed that either of them could claim tomorrow that it hadn't happened.

So, she settled for something easier, but no less true. A callback to another day she had feared for him this way. A lesser included emotion. "I need you Castle, do you hear me? I need you."

* * *

><p>After his first few hours in the hospital, Castle found himself restless. His mother and daughter have had plenty of time to fuss over him, and what ever they managed to give him for pain had managed to do the job. Strangely though, far from being knocked out as he'd expected, his brain felt almost too wired.<p>

Some of that over energized buzz seemed settle a bit and coalesce when he saw his partner standing in the doorway. "Kate," he said quietly, more than aware that he had switched somewhere in the last few hours from thinking of her in the more formal way he had been using these past few weeks.

When his daughter looked up at her, he was more than a little glad his mother had chosen this moment to go looking for coffee. At least Alexis didn't know about what has been going on last few weeks. Well, didn't know the details anyway. He wasn't sure it would be fair to subject Kate to his mother right now. Although, he suspected that knowing the circumstances of the last few hours, or days really, would probably have gone a fair way toward softening his mother's opinion. Heaven only knew it was working on his.

His daughter confirmed his suspicions when she reached out to offer Kate a hug. "We heard you saved his life," she said. "Thank you. Sometimes I only think about how my dad manages to find himself in trouble when he's with you. Then I remembered how he manages to find himself in plenty of trouble on his own. I'm glad he has you to help him get out of it again." Then she excused herself to go and find her grandmother.

"She's right you know," he said quietly. "And you were right."

She shook her head. "I'm just glad you're all right," she said quietly. _I never thought I'd see you again_.

He studied her quietly,. And then something that went back further than any secret turned over in his mind. "I think after this," he said, "I'm a one partner kind of guy."

He watched as she blinked once, and then smiled. "Well," she offered, "I guess it seems only fair. Makes us even."

It did, he thought, today it did. "Thanks for having my back, Kate."

And then, just as she had done the year before, she shocked him with her answer. The one he probably should have expected, but couldn't bring himself to hope for.

"Always."


End file.
